After All
by Nienn
Summary: After the rather early end of his promising tennis career, Tezuka copes. Somewhat. Fuji is supportive, until he's not. //I swear by Perfect Pair.
1. Enough is enough

Disclaimer: Not mine. Entertainment purposes only.

Author's notes: Well, this has been sitting around in my archives for over a year. Today I decided that it didn't suck THAT much, so I finished the chapter, and now I'm posting it. Meh. I haven't posted since forever, but I read regularly. As in Every Freaking Day. So if you're a published TeFu writer in here, chances are I'VE READ YOU, I just don't review (I'm sorry, I'll try to do it from now on..). Just letting you know, is all.

Warnings: I shouldn't, because if you clicked this you read the summary, but, here it goes. This is (will eventually be) Perfect Pair, meaning, smexy boy plus equally smexy boy love. Also, unannounced changes in PoV, but I think they're fairly obvious.

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"It's ok."

"No, it's not ok."

"But it will be."

"Don't lie to me."

"There's other things, you know."

"Like what?"

"A career."

"In tennis?"

"Not likely."

"..."

"It's ok."

"No, it's not ok."

Needless to say, the pattern for the conversation had already been established, from daily repetition. Fuji Syuusuke didn't find it particularly comforting, but his captain seemed to, so he complied. Tezuka Kunimitsu had always had a certain fondness towards charted territory. The unknown didn't sit well with the man-child. Syuusuke supposed that was the reason his current situation had him so upset. He wasn't surprised. Mainly, because he was never surprised, about anything. But if he ever were to be, it wouldn't be about this. Tezuka had made his whole life revolve around tennis, and now that the foundation was gone, what could the structure do, but fall apart? It was only logical. Which didn't actually make it easier to cope with.

After the injury in his left shoulder had gotten worse, Tezuka had been medically advised not to (meaning strictly forbidden) use his drop shot again. And he, who prided himself in following orders, respecting authority, and doing the sensible thing, paid no heed to said warnings.

Surgery was the result. And a rather early end of his promising tennis career.

Tezuka Kunimitsu had assured everyone that he would be fine, that he had know the day would come, and he had come to terms with it. But he hadn't expected the day to come so soon, and he hadn't really come to terms with it. Some people had cooking, basketball, acting, gardening, or the like. Some had ideals, professional goals, aspirations. Some had love and someone to share it with. He had tennis. And then, one day, he didn't. What was left?

He had no idea, and that on itself, was a scary thought.

He abandoned his musings in favor of looking at the owner of the bed he was currently occupying.

Fuji Syuusuke.

He was sitting on his desk, focusing intently on the paper he was trying to finish. It was a group project, and Fuji had decided to pair up with him only to leave him out of it when it came to the actual work. Tezuka thanked him inwardly. He was most definitely not in a productive mood. He hadn't been ever since he'd gotten out of the hospital. Fuji had certainly caught on, and had decided to spare him. But then again, if there was anyone capable of deciphering him, it was the tensai. That was the reason he hadn't even bothered hiding how he really felt about the predictable turn of events. Fuji had tried consoling, comforting, and even pitying. Tezuka just wanted to sulk. And sulk he did. In fact, he'd been doing so for the past month and a half.

At that point during his internal diatribe, Fuji sighed, pushed his chair back, and stretched his arms over his head.

"Well, all done. And, if I may say so, I think we've done a splendid job." He shifted his chair to face Tezuka and smiled at him.

"We?"

"Yes, you're collaboration was absolutely vital. I couldn't have done it without you."

"And what, exactly, did my collaboration consist in?" voiced the stoic captain, while pushing his glasses up his nose.

"You were a reminder, naturally." He said it in such a way that Tezuka was almost compelled to believe that sentence made any actual sense. _Almost_ being the key word.

Tezuka was almost afraid to ask. Again, key word. "...Reminder?"

"Yes. That the sooner I finished, the sooner I could persuade you to accompany me do some shopping." The tensai's smile grew wider at this.

Tezuka found himself marveling at the fact that anyone would be able to guilt-trip someone into doing something, while making it seem like said someone had any choice in the matter. Such a talented boy, truly.

A throat was cleared. Tezuka registered that it hadn't been his. Common sense dictated that, "Yes, Fuji?"

"So could I?"

"Could you what?"

"Persuade you?"

Tezuka could see from Fuji's now opened eyes that he best be persuaded.

"Of course. I'll accompany you."

Fuji closed his eyes and smiled wider, if that was even humanly possible. Although Tezuka had already doubted Fuji's humanity in numerous occasions.

"Excellent!" beamed the brunette. "We should get going then. The mall's 35 minutes away walking distance."

"Will we be having lunch there as well? It's already past noon" Tezuka noted, as he took a quick glance at his wristwatch.

Fuji contemplated the proposition for a few seconds before nodding his assent, and telling Tezuka that he would quickly retrieve the money his mother had left for him, and then they could be on their way.

As Fuji disappeared through the bedroom door, Tezuka laid back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. While he was busy examining a little spider diligently construct her web on the darkest corner over the wall to wall closet, his stomach decided to make the loudest, longest growl of protest ever heard. As he inwardly thanked that Fuji wasn't presently in the room, the bespectacled boy wondered how could he have possibly gotten so hungry and not notice it, when all he had been doing all morning was brood, and occasionally (regularly), moodily stare at the back of Fuji's head as he scribbled away.

As he opened the top drawer on his mother's night table, Fuji smiled to himself, thanking whatever deity was listening that they'd made Tezuka compliant enough to go out with him and distract himself for a while, even if it was for this one afternoon. He deeply cared for his buchou, but lately, he'd almost been wanting to _strangle_ the depression out of him. Enough was enough. He'd make sure of that, if his name wasn't Fuji Syusuke, Tensai.

A/N: That's it for now. I'll try to update soon, I promise. Reviews are more than welcomed. If you feel like dropping a line or two, do so. Also, off-topic, if anyone needs a beta, I'll offer my services.

(Hi vierblith!! You don't know me, but I know you're reading this! Just wanted to say I'm looking foward to the perfecttales posts!! I wish I'd found it sooner..)


	2. Off to a good start

Disclaimer: Again, not mine. I'm just borrowing them.

A/N: As I was writing this chapter, I realised this story's going to be longer than I originally thought, so I'll try my best to maintain the flow and keep it interesting. This chapter doesn't have much dialogue, as I go into their feelings and the background story a bit more. A necessary evil, I say. Upcoming chapters will have a lighter mood, I promise, I don't intend to turn this into angst. Spread the TeFu love.

Warnings: See first chapter.

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After Fuji had gotten the money and grabbed a coat, since it was starting to get chilly, they'd left the house and started their way towards the mall.

It had been ten minutes since that, and not more than five words had been exchanged between the two. It was beginning to get on Tezuka's nerves, given that the silence didn't seem to bother his friend, who was the one who usually did the talking out of the two.

Tezuka turned his head to look at Fuji, who was smiling and seemingly just enjoying being outdoors for once, and decided that the silence didn't actually look like a plot to get him to do, well... anything. It was just that, harmless silence. Not that Tezuka could be blamed for his ill thinking, after all, Fuji Syusuke was a Plotter™, and his plots usually involved him, one way or another.

Or at least they used to. Over the past few months, the mischievous side of the tensai had mellowed out. Even after he'd gotten out of the hospital, Fuji had been really accommodating. Then again, he hadn't been his usual self for a while now, either.

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After the senior regulars had graduated from Seigaku Jr. High, it seemed that they had all implicitly agreed they would attend the same high school, so that in a few years they could once again lead Seigaku to victory at the Nationals.

Finding themselves first years one more, they experienced a drastic change in their training routines. They were most definitely unaccustomed to picking up the balls and sweeping the courts. After all, they were National level players. But they grew used to it. It was only a few months until they would be able to participate in the ranking matches. Inui even developed a training regime designed to keep them in shape till then, and they all followed it religiously.

All but one.

Tezuka had first grown concerned when they'd entered the Seigaku High tennis club, and met his senpai.

While it was certainly good news that they would have no trouble making it into the regulars in their first year, he was worried that his teammates would grow used to downplay their abilities during practice, given that the good players were outnumbered, and nobody liked to embarrass a senpai. Tezuka knew that better than anyone. He didn't expect to be a team like they used to, not until Momoshiro, Kaidoh and Echizen joined them, but still, they couldn't afford to get careless. He couldn't afford to get careless.

And that's how it had all started.

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He was brought out of his musings with the sound of a soft chuckle and the sight of a smiling tensai, idly looking at him.

Hiding the fact that he'd been caught off-guard, Tezuka simply frowned and looked away. He'd already predisposed himself to ignore the shorter boy, until he heard his next words.

"You weren't even listening, were you? Tsk tsk, so rude of you, Tezuka. And after I spent all morning dutifully working on our project. I'm hurt."

Even though he knew the tensai was lying when he said he was hurt, Tezuka couldn't help but think he'd gotten the desired result anyway, as he felt slight pangs of guilt course through him.

That wasn't the way to treat the friend who'd done so much for him already.

"I'm sorry, you're right. It was rude of me. I guess I got distracted. What were you saying?"

Fuji just smiled one of his trademark smiles and nodded his head towards a big, six stories tall structure, seemingly bustling with people all around.

"We're already here so I guess it doesn't matter now. Besides, I was talking for about ten minutes, and I didn't really say anything worthwhile."

"Well, I apologise either way."

"Don't worry about it. Lets just go in and grab something to eat first. I'm starving."

As his buchou (he really had to stop calling him that, one day it could slip out,) nodded and started heading in, Fuji walked by his side and took the chance to examine him more closely.

He certainly looked better than he did when he first got out of the hospital. His skin was no longer pale, and he'd lost the dark circles under his eyes weeks ago. He'd recovered normal mobility of his left arm, although he'd never get his full strength back, and he wasn't allowed to perform any kind of strenuous activities with it. He had even lost that unbearably sad look that had seemed glued to his face for so long.

But Fuji knew better that to think it was over. Tezuka was far from being his old self. The passion that was always a permanent fixture in his eyes, that reflected in anything and everything he did, the one everyone cherished and was inspired by so much, that, he hadn't gotten back yet. And, Fuji thought, he wasn't even trying to.

He knew because throughout the whole process, Tezuka had, out of courage or helplessness he didn' know, opened up to him like he never had before. He had let himself be vulnerable in front of Fuji, allowing him to see things that were hidden from the rest of the world. People tended to forget, but after all, Tezuka was just a boy. Boys couldn't be islands.

And so, in front of Fuji, Tezuka didn't bother to pretend he was alright. That he cared about thing he really didn't. That in a single sunny, warm, and perfectly innocent afternoon, the world as he knew it ended.

That, in Fuji's humble opinion, didn't mean he had to wallow in self-pity for the rest of his days. And if Tezuka couldn't get out of the hole he'd dug out for himself on his own, Fuji was more than ready to provide a helping hand. It was high time that his dearest friend learn there was more to life than tennis. So much more, if he would just open his eyes and see what was right in front of him.

"Now it's you who's being rude."

Fuji blinked himself to awareness only to find Tezuka staring at him, amusement written clearly in his eyes.

"W-what?"

The bespectacled boy shook his head, but couldn't hide the slight, rusted from disuse smile that threatened to break out.

"I said, that we are already at the food court, and would you like to hold a table for us while I go get something to eat?"

"That's not necessary. You go look for a tale and I'll go fetch the food."

The shorter boy was caught off-guard by the sudden irate look that flashed across Tezuka's face, even if it was for a fraction of a second.

"You mean why don't you get the food since I'm obviously not capable to carry it all back by myself?"

Fuji almost recoiled at the stinging words. He tried to muster all the sympathy and understanding he had, and not to take the attack personally. He was the outlet, not the cause.

"That's not what I meant. I just-"

"I'm not crippled, you know."

Fuji couldn't help but react to this, his bottled up frustration and concern slipping past his defences.

"Of course you're not crippled. Just emotionally stunted and chronically depressed."

The words and the angry, frustrated look on his friend's face made Tezuka quiet down instantly. He was so tired. All Fuji was trying to do was help him. He had already trusted him with so much, perhaps he could also trust him to help get him back on his feet. He sighed.

"I know."

Fuji just blinked and looked at him, surprised, but silent.

"I don't want to talk about it. Could we not talk about it?"

The tensai understood what 'it' meant, and conceded. "Sure, we wont. At least not now. Now we'll eat, and then we'll shop. Go get the food, I'll get us a table."

Tezuka looked at him, uncertain. "Are you sure?"

Fuji smiled, and Tezuka caught himself releasing a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Seeing his friend smile like that, like he truly meant it, it made him feel like things were better already. He even felt a smile of his own coming forth.

"Alright, I'll be back shortly then."

As Fuji sat and waited at their tale, he mused to himself that the road to recovery would be hard, but they were already off to a good start.

A/N: Phew, writing this by hand first was probably a bad idea. Anyway, there you go, chapter two. As I said, the next one will be more lighthearted, I promise. If dear buchou seems a little OOC, bare with him, he's going through some tough times. I'm sure Fuji will get him back to his old self in no time. You probably noticed by now that I'll take my sweet time developing their relationship, but it'll all be worth it. Until next time!

(Thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved and put this fic on alert, you filled this humble writer with Glee :D)


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